On a chilly autumn morning last year, more than a thousand white crosses stood on the North Plaza of the Oklahoma State Capitol, each one a stark reminder of lives lost to drugs in the state. Among them was a small cross bearing the name Leo, Leonardo “Leo” Towe, a three-year-old boy whose life was cut short by a fentanyl overdose in June 2024.
His father, Jacob Towe, is now transforming his grief into a crusade for what supporters are calling Leo’s Law, a proposed measure aimed at tightening child-welfare protections and confronting the opioid crisis hitting families across Oklahoma. Leo died while in the care of his mother, who was later arrested on child neglect charges after investigators determined the toddler had been exposed to fentanyl, a powerful synthetic opioid.
Towe said state child welfare officials did not test for fentanyl before returning his son to his mother’s care, a missed step he believes could have saved Leo’s life. In response, he has rallied lawmakers andcommunitymembers to support House Bill 4421, which would require mandatory fentanyl testing in Department of Human Servicescaseswherethedrug is suspected and strengthen timelines and penalties when a child is endangered by fentanyl exposure.
Across Oklahoma, the broader fentanyl crisis has fueledasharpriseinoverdose deaths in recent years. According to state health data, fentanyl-involved fatalities climbed nearly sixfold from 127 in 2020 to 730 in 2023, before dipping to 487 in 2024.
In that year, fentanyl was involved in about 86 % of all opioid-related overdose deaths in Oklahoma, a dramatic shift from earlier in the decade when it accounted for just a fraction of such deaths. Experts note that fentanyl’s extraordinary potency, up to 50timesstrongerthanheroin and 100 times stronger than morphine, makes even tiny amounts deadly and illegal manufacturers often lace it into other street drugs without users’ knowledge.
The drug’s origin in the current crisis is overwhelmingly illicit. Pharmaceutical fentanyl, developed decades ago for severe pain management under strict medical supervision, accounts for a small portion of overall supply.
The vast majority of fentanyl on U.S. streets today is manufactured illegally and smuggled across borders or distributed through underground networks because it is cheap to produce and highly addictive. State and federal authorities have responded with prosecutions and tough sentences for traffickers.
In recentyears, Oklahoma courts have handed down long prison terms for fentanyl conspiracy and distribution, from a 25-year federal sentence for trafficking over 46 pounds of fentanyl-laced pills to more than three years for possession with intent to distribute coupled with firearm charges. Other defendants have received decades behind bars following overdose deaths linked to their sales.
UnderOklahomalaw,possession of as little as one gram of fentanyl can trigger felony trafficking charges with decades of imprisonment and substantial fines and larger quantities are punishable by life terms. Despite these measures, advocates like Towe argue that enforcement alone cannot shield the most vulnerable.
“I just want to help save somebody else and change their world,” Towe told reporters at a rally supporting the bill.
Lawmakers backing Leo’s Law said it could fill gaps in the system by giving child-welfare workers clearer authority to test for fentanyl and act decisively when children are at risk. As the bill moves through committee hearings this session, Towe and other families said they hope Leo’s legacy will be one of prevention, a shield for future children who might otherwise slip through the cracks of a crisis that has already claimed hundreds of lives in Oklahoma.